


Communication Breakdown

by tumtummeke



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Asexual Character, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-29
Updated: 2015-01-29
Packaged: 2018-03-09 15:16:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3254498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tumtummeke/pseuds/tumtummeke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jehan and Courfeyrac have been friends for many years. Recently, Jehan has started to feel bothered by Courf's different definition of personal space, but he is afraid to bring it up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Communication Breakdown

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks a billion to my best friend Kermitty, for proof reading and suggesting some improvements. I love you :).

He couldn't even recall how exactly it had started. Courfeyrac and he had been friends for many years now, but in the last six months something had changed. Something had changed, and it bothered him.

Their friendship had always been a comfortable one. Neither of them felt obliged to meet regularly but when they did hang out, it was always fun. Over the years they had gotten into the habit of watching TV together and they spent many an hour binge-watching several shows and movies.

Jehan had never been interested in a romantic relationship with Courfeyrac, and he had always assumed that the reverse was also true. Certainly, Courf had always been handsy, poking him in the sides at every opportunity he got, not to mention the relentless teasing and embarrassing remarks he made Jehan the object of, but it was never too close, never too intimate for the poet to doubt his assumption. Besides, Jehan had been in a steady relationship for most of the time they’d known each other, and Courf had dated too. As a matter of fact, Courfeyrac had told Jehan in confidence that he was currently involved in a friends-with-benefits relationship, even though he wouldn't say who with.

All in all, Jehan couldn't understand why their friendship had started changing the moment he'd told Courfeyrac that he had broken it off with his boyfriend of almost five years. Courf and Jehan had had a long discussion about the break up, in which the poet not only told his friend that he was both devastated and relieved with the end of his relationship, but in which Jehan also mentioned in passing that he figured he might be asexual. Of course, this had led to a conversation filled with wrong assumptions, accidental insults and many very intimate questions, which Jehan had all answered because he couldn't lie to save his life.

Maybe this was where it had gone wrong: the intimate discussions and the hugs Courfeyrac bestowed upon him whenever a tear slipped from his eyes. Still, Jehan saw this only as friendship. The hugs were welcome and it felt good to share his doubts about his sexuality with someone, even when they understood it even less than he did himself.

After spending the larger part of a fortnight curled up in bed, he decided that the best way to get over his ex would be to find some distraction and to stop wallowing in self-pity. Thus, he filled nearly every night with appointments with his friends. He played silly games with Combeferre, went on a pub crawl with Grantaire, Bahorel, and a few other amis, and he even had some serious but wonderful conversations with Enjolras. However, most of his time was spent at Courfeyrac's. Initially, Jehan considered this a great development, as their friendship seemed stronger now than ever. Yet, as the weeks passed, a feeling of unease grew in his heart.

The first time Courf nudged the line between friendship and intimacy, he hardly even noticed. He had hardly been sleeping for weeks and was dozing off during a particularly slow episode of whichever show they happened to be watching that day. When Courf pulled him into a hug that was slightly too intimate for his liking, he was already half asleep and too tired to care. However, Jehan was less than pleased when he woke up as the little spoon to Courf's big one. Feeling awkward and flustered, he made an excuse and left soon after. Surely, this wouldn't happen again.

\---

It did happen again. And ever so gradually, it got worse. Courfeyrac now regularly picked him up and slung him over his shoulder; grabbed him into an embrace and didn't let go; pulled him onto his bed and onto him; and sat on his legs, whilst restraining his arms and bringing his face too close to Jehan's. 'God, what if he kisses me?' the poet thought, but all he did was squeeze his eyes shut and subtly try to get into a position he was less uncomfortable with. He didn't dare speaking up. Surely, if he did, Courfeyrac would be angry with him, or worse, cold and distant. He had noticed the same whenever he rejected his ex's advances: it was not a rare occurrence to be given the cold shoulder for the rest of the day. He figured it was better just to tolerate these unwanted intimacies than to risk their friendship crashing and burning. After all, Courf never went too far. If he did, Jehan would not hesitate to punch him... surely.

Their relationship kept progressing like this. Jehan happily met up with Courfeyrac, previous incidents all but forgotten, but as soon as he entered the other's apartment, it would start again. Every time the poet intended to speak up, but he never dared to and it got more and more difficult with time.

At some point there was a moment where he thought everything would change for the better. On this particular day, the pair of them were lying on Courf's bed, chatting about this and that, when Courf pushed his hand up underneath Jehan's shirt. Instantly, the poet tensed up.

"Oh, is this not OK?" Courfeyrac asked, eyes wide in a picture of innocence. Jehan shook his head, teeth clenched, and sighed in relief when the other removed his hand at once.

"Why not, though?"

The poet frowned at this question. "I don't know. I just don't... I don't like it, OK." he replied, decidedly not looking at his friend. "Sorry."

Courfeyrac rolled over to face him. "I'm sorry, Jehan. I know, I'm easily affectionate. Please, will you tell me whenever you are uncomfortable with anything I do? I'm really scared that I might go too far if you don't." And he looked at the poet with such a sad and pleading expression that the latter had no choice but to forgive him on the spot. Jehan swallowed, nodded and gingerly relaxed his muscles.

"You should really tell me, little man." Courf repeated.

Jehan ventured a chuckle. "Believe me, Courf. If you go too far, I will gladly punch you in the face."

The larger man grinned and reached out to ruffle Jehan's hair. "Deal. Though I wouldn't mind some kind of warning before it comes to that."

The small poet stuck out his tongue and they went back to the conversation that they had been having before. He noticed that Courfeyrac was careful to keep his distance for the remainder of the day, and for the first time in weeks he left feeling light-hearted and with the hope that it would all work out. Of course, this turned out not to be the case.

\---

The very next time Jehan went over to Courf's, it felt as if their progress had not been saved. Courfeyrac was all over him from the moment he arrived, and -once again- Jehan lacked the courage to reprimand his friend. Before long, Courf had pulled the poet's shirt up and placed one of his hands on the other's belly, and Jehan still dared not speak up. However, this behavior was too invasive, so as an alternative approach, he physically removed Courfeyrac's hand from his body. Apparently this was not a clear enough signal for the dark haired man, because he kept placing his hand back, and Jehan kept removing it at least five times. Exasperated, the small poet finally spoke up. "Seriously, Courfeyrac. Stop it! You're making me uncomfortable."

But instead of responding immediately, Courf grinned lazily. Jehan was completely fed up with this behavior, so he once again removed the offending hand and sent Courf an angry glare for good measure. This seemed to work, for Courf finally listened to him. However, he apparently had no qualms about continuing to carry out other actions that made Jehan's skin crawl. The poet tried discouraging his friend, both verbally and physically, but at a certain point his courage ran out and he resorted to the evasion tactics he'd applied before, unsuccessfully.

Where he had been so optimistic on leaving after the previous visit, this time he went straight to Joly's and spent the entire night crying his eyes out in desperation, without even telling the hypochondriac what the problem was. Of course, Joly was worried, but as Jehan was prone to bouts of melancholia, the incident could be explained away easily. And the poet had to admit, letting his emotions out in this manner was helpful indeed. But the real turning point came when he spoke to Grantaire.

\---

"I can never tell when someone is flirting with me, unless they're being extremely obvious." Jehan said. "How can you tell?"

"I don't profess myself to be an authority," replied Grantaire, "but I'm fairly certain that every guy who talks to you is at least a little interested in more. I don't think there is such a thing as just friendship between two potential partners."

"That's nonsense. I'm friends with loads of guys and I don't want to sleep with any of them."

Jehan was interrupted by a pointed look from Grantaire. “You’re ace.”

The poet rolled his eyes. "Ok, maybe not the best example ever, but still. Are you saying that all of my friendships are fake?" He looked a little insulted.

"No, I'm sure your friendships are perfectly legitimate, Jehan, but I'm also certain that many -if not all of them- are jeopardized by one of the people in it wanting more than friendship. Haven't you ever noticed anything that may indicate this?"

The small poet wrung his hands and looked down, the whole Courfeyrac situation coming to the forefront of his mind immediately. "I guess," he spoke softly, determinately evading his friend's gaze. Grantaire pointedly said nothing, waiting for an elaboration. "I think Courf may, you know, be interested in more." Jehan blushed in embarrassment.

"What makes you think that?" It wasn't that Grantaire didn't believe the poet, but he was intrigued by Jehan's embarrassment, his hand-wringing, and his refusal to look him in the eye.

Jehan remained silent for a moment. "Just the things he does sometimes."

Grantaire raised an eyebrow and waited.

For a while, Jehan said nothing. His fidgeting increased dramatically and he started speaking several times only to shake his head and wave his hands around dismissively before any words left his mouth. Finally, he bent his head and muttered softly "He touches me, sometimes."

Fear and anger gripped Grantaire's heard. "In what way?" He demanded.

"He never goes too far. I mean, I'm not scared of him, or anything. Not really. It's just..." the poet took a deep breath, "he makes me feel uncomfortable."

Grantaire swallowed. "He didn't, you know, touch you in, er..., inappropriate places, did he?"

"No, no, no. God no." Jehan replied.

The painter sighed in relief. "So can I ask what he did do? You don't have to say if you don't want to."

Jehan debated this. In the end, he decided to trust Grantaire. Maybe the dark-haired artist could offer him some advice on the topic. "Well, there's stuff he does that isn't bad per se, only I'm not sure if I should let him do it because I don't actually want to date him. Stuff like, I don't know, making me lean against him when we watch a movie and putting his arm around my shoulders. But that's ok, I can tolerate that." Grantaire frowned at this, but did not interrupt the nervous poet now that he was talking. "But some things he does... he doesn't go too far, but... it's too intimate for me. Like he..." Jehan slumped in his seat and waved his hands around desperately, as if trying to grab the right words from thin air.

Grantaire wanted to calm him down, but didn't dare touching his friend, due to the nature of their current conversation. "It's ok, my dear poet, you can tell me anything," he promised "or nothing, if that's what you prefer."

Jehan smiled unconvincingly. "Thanks, 'Taire." He looked away for a moment, mustering up the courage to continue. "He may have pushed his hands underneath my shirt." It was almost a question.

"He did not," Grantaire bristled indignantly. "Oh my God, what a tool!"

Jehan looked utterly miserable.

"Did you tell him to stop?" Grantaire demanded.

"I tried," whispered the poet, "and he did listen initially, but he keeps doing it anyway."

The painter was angry. "I could hit him, I should hit him. You should stop hanging out with him. God, what a bastard."

"It's not that bad." Trust Jehan to always defend his friends.

"Not that bad, my ass! You should do something about it, because this is ridiculous."

"I know, but I don't know how to fix it," Jehan said, near tears. "I'm scared of speaking up, but if I don't he might go too far and ruin our friendship."

Grantaire sighed. "I think you only have two options, sweetheart. You can either tell Courfeyrac how you feel, or you can stop seeing him altogether."

"But what if he gets mad, or doesn't listen?"

"If he refuses to listen, he doesn't deserve to be your friend." Grantaire growled.

The poet swallowed and nodded. "You're right, 'Taire. I'll talk to him next time I see him."

"Can I?" asked the painter, moving to put his arm around the poet's shoulders, completing the movement when Jehan nodded yes. They sat together in silence until Jehan had calmed down and then their conversation moved to lighter topics.

\---

It was summer vacation, a fact Jehan was incredibly grateful for. Not only because the burden of studying had been lifted temporarily, but also largely due to the fact that Courfeyrac was away for the month. The petite poet was not looking forward to the conversation he’d promised Grantaire and himself that he’d initiate. Jehan spent many a night mulling over the issue, each of which ended in frustration and slight nervous breakdowns.

With only a few days before Courf’s return, he sat himself down and grabbed a notebook and a pen. He evaded all distractions, bar some soothing background music, and started writing. Initially, only abstract poetry flowed from his pen; jagged sentences and dark metaphors, but the writing soon calmed him down to a point where he could jot down thoughts he wanted to tell Courfeyrac. These thoughts were unstructured and scattered, but eventually he had enough of them to get his point across. He gathered all his thoughts and ordered them into a coherent story, before slapping the notebook shut. It felt good, having something tangible to work with, even though he was still dreading the delivery.

A few days later, Jehan showed up at Courfs door a bundle of nerves. As they took a short walk in the nearby park, Courf talked animatedly about his time abroad and Jehan responded with all the things he had been up to in the past month. In the back of his head, a small voice urged him to move on to the issues at hand, but the poet was having too much fun discussing non-threatening matters and frankly, was terrified of changing the subject. In the end, he postponed speaking up until the very last moment: after watching some show, when Courf asked if he had something nice to talk about.

"Well, er. Not really. I mean...." Jehan hid his face behind one of the pillows that was always on the floor.

"What is it? You have no choice now!" Courf exclaimed, smiling. "You were going to say something. Tell me!"

Jehan swallowed. "Yeah, I have something to tell you, but it's not a nice thing." Great. Now he could not go back. He started fidgeting with a vengeance.

"Oh." Courfeyrac's face fell. He was silent for a moment, waiting for Jehan to speak up, but when that didn't happen, he pushed on. "What is it about?"

"About you." Jehan whispered, squeezing his eyes shut.

"What did I do?" Courf asked.

Jehan cracked his eyes open and looked at his friend apologetically for a split second, before averting his gaze. "It's not that I'm angry or anything and I don't want you to feel guilty, but I'm not really happy about the way things are between us right now." It was quiet for a while. "I mean, I feel that we're too intimate for my liking, and it really bothers me." The poet blushed and hid his face in his hands. He felt guilty about making it sound like Courf is the bad guy in this situation. "I know that I haven't always been perfectly clear in communicating this, but I want to change that, because I've been feeling uncomfortable around you."

Courfeyrac pales and he looks so sad as he apologizes. "Oh God, I'm so sorry, Jehan." He clasps a hand in front of his mouth. "God." He keeps apologizing. "This is one of my greatest fears: ignoring someone's boundaries and taking it too far."

He looks so miserable that Jehan wants to comfort him. "It wasn't that bad. You didn't actually go too far. I'm just not really comfortable with that stuff."

"Sweetie, that's called going to far." Courf speaks softly, looking him in the eye.

The poet looks away again. "I suppose."

"From now on, can you please tell me when I do something that you don't like?"

"I will try," Jehan promises, "but that is something that I find difficult. I mean the prospect of this conversation has been scaring the hell out of me for weeks."

"Really?" Courf pouts at him.

Jehan nods and continues speaking. "And what's more: I've tried telling you in the past but you don't always listen."

Courfeyrac starts apologizing again, but Jehan holds his hand up. "It's really difficult for me to speak up, and if you don't listen, I am often discouraged from trying to speak up again."

"I'm sorry. I'm really bad at reading people. At understanding where the boundaries are."

"And I am really bad at communicating them, so we both need to change things. So let's make a deal. I will tell you whenever you do something I am not comfortable with. When I tell you to stop doing something, you will stop it. And when you are unsure about whether or not something is OK, you ask me." Jehan holds out his hand. "Deal?"

Courf grabs Jehan's hand and looks him in the eyes as he shakes it. "Deal."

Jehan smiles. "Thanks for listening."

\---

It takes a good long while, but the two of them manage to settle into a comfortable friendship once again. The turning point is an incident in which Courf touches Jehan inappropriately and the latter gets properly pissed off for a change. After many apologies, Jehan forgives his friend, but Courf was so impressed at an angry Jehan that he completely stops touching the poet. Slowly, with time, they grow comfortable around one another again. Courf is no longer scared to poke Jehan in the sides, and Jehan stops being terrified that Courf will want more from him than his is willing to give. They joke again. They can casually touch each other again and Jehan is looking forward to spending time with Courf again. Now, when they are watching television, Courfeyrac offers his shoulder for Jehan to rest his head on, and when the poet feels like it, he accepts this offer.

Today is one of those days. The two of them are watching a movie together, Jehan's head resting on Courfeyrac's shoulder and Courf's arm wrapped around the poet's smaller frame. Jehan sighs and smiles.

Courf ruffles Jehan's hair. "What's up?"

"Nothing," Jehan replies. He cuddles up against Courf and relishes in the relaxed, unforced atmosphere.

He feels completely safe.

**Author's Note:**

> Title after a Led Zeppelin song.


End file.
